


In Search Of

by amateurwriter357, hhhoneycupcake, tinakalex



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Friendship, I'm Bad At Tagging, Multi, Original Character(s), Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Slow Burn, illustrations by the gorgeous fate221
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 06:32:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18005663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amateurwriter357/pseuds/amateurwriter357, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hhhoneycupcake/pseuds/hhhoneycupcake, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinakalex/pseuds/tinakalex
Summary: Pidge finds herself in a strange world threatening to send her spiraling down into chaos. Even though she is in the Camp full of other demigods, the loneliness feels like a terrible weight pressing down on her shoulders. She was not ready for this.Hunk reminds her of a ray of sunshine, always there to give some comfort. Lance smiles so often she starts to question if his smile is even sincere. Keith scoffs and narrows his eyes, but the seriousness in his voice is almost tangible when he promises his help. And Shiro . . . Shiro is the only one she can talk to about Matt and her past.When her patience runs out, Pidge makes her decision, and no one can stop her.





	In Search Of

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [В поисках](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/461891) by Talex. 



> Original Author's note: Hey, guys, Talex (tinakalex) here. Just want to thank you in advance for your interest and support! I hope you'll love the story just as much as I do. Please give these two ladies (the translator & editor) kudos, reviews and a big round of applause. That's what they deserve. Also, go praise fate221 for the amazing illustrations. If you need to contact me (for some reason), feel free to use Tumblr (my acc: sscadet). 
> 
> For some reason the link to the original fanfic doesn't work, so here it is: https://ficbook.net/readfic/7762060

**Prologue**

Slowly, almost unwillingly he was regaining consciousness. First, his hearing cleared and he could catch indistinguishable and monotonous whispers forming some kind of noise. Then, he was able to take in a painful short breath that made him wince from the ache in his chest.

The air in the room where he found himself was dusty. Dry. Deserted. His eyelids were heavy, and the thick darkness swallowing the room was making him doubt whether his eyes were even open. There were no silhouettes, no shapes—he could see nothing. He started blinking, hoping that his eyes would get used to the dark. A suffocating sense of fear that he had gone blind was burning inside him. He could taste something unpleasantly salty and nauseating in his mouth, and a light spasm hit his throat.

For him, fear had always been something sticky, malleable, and cold. Those thin fingers of death wrapped around his neck from behind, and their touch, icy and petrifying, made his blood feel frozen and curdled and kept him from moving a muscle, as if he was in a nightmare where fear paralyzes you as you stare the beast in the eyes and realize that you need to run, but you can neither move your feet nor blink your eyes.

Now, his fear was making him act. Perhaps, it was his hyper-activity, which was typical for most demigods with rare exceptions, but he needed to do something, anything. Anything at all. He knew perfectly well where he was being kept even though he'd never been to this particular place.

His whole body was bound by the overpowering weakness. His head buzzed and his blood pulsed painfully in his temples; yet, he tried to think frantically, as if he had been running a marathon and pushing himself to his limits to get to the finish line.

For a moment, he was scared that he couldn't feel his arms, but when he shrugged his shoulders, he knew why he had felt that way. His arms, raised and shackled to the wall, were numb, and he wasn't even strong enough to clench his fists. A bit of white hair from his bangs was covering his eyes, and he shook his head and kept his eyes closed. The movement caused echoes of pain in the back of his head. Had he been hit with something heavy? If he could move his hand to touch his head, his fingers would have stumbled upon a layer of gore. Slowly, so as not to get dizzy from the movement, he put his head against the wall, thinking about what he had done.

The outcome had been clear from the start. Being alive was as much as he could ask for. But then, alive is exactly how they wanted him, he would have been no use to them dead. The corner of his mouth curled up in an involuntary smirk.  And yet . . . he made it.

After such a long time in the dark, even the dim, purple light was too bright for him, and he turned away as much as his position would allow him. At least his blindness was out of the question. He really wanted to look his enemies in the eye, triumphantly. The thought made him open his eyes, even though they hurt from the light, to look at the person who had decided to bless him with their presence. A woman in a dark coat took a few steps forward holding a torch that was shining purple. Enchanted fire. Could she be dumb enough to waste the energy on cheap magic tricks?

He had had enough time to learn what  _they_  were doing and how things worked there. His choice was risky, very risky indeed, but in case of his success, it would most certainly destroy _them_. In the end, he knew that the punishment was inevitable, but he proceeded with the plan nonetheless.

That was his only chance. His chance to stop them.

Her voice was like a snake's hiss. “You shouldn't have done it".


End file.
